Frank was hiding something from her. Deli wasn’t a blind fool. She’d sat in that hall, listening to Frank and Quel rutting like animals multiple times. A quiet visit was unlike him. She’d not thought anything of it, when he’d gone off the visit the Demonspawn. Nothing worth saying.

“That she would pretend to be an upright, decent woman and then debase herself so. It says all one needs to know about that whore.”

Quel was a firekeeper. She was tolerable. An admission of weakness, a failing, but understandable. That a man; or woman she supposed. That they couldn’t find a bed mate for themselves was an admission of failure. Failing in one of the foundational duties left to everyone by the Ancestors.

That was what it felt like, to Deli.

She could understand, up here, in her head, that it was not so. She had not forged her own weapon, or made her own furs. Others had done so, for her. She’d earned them.

But something in her heart rebelled at the idea that one could pay for children. That was no way to start a family.

Deli knew she was queer, in his matter. That many felt it normal to beget a child and leave it to the Cult to raise. She did not think it abhorrent, for them. Their lives, their choices.

She did not wish to give up her own. Deli found the idea of giving away a child painful, and raising one of hers on her lonesome daunting.

But that was talk years in the making.

For now, she was sworn to a Hero from the Empire that was acting like he was one of them, for once. He’d bought some Light Armour with coin from the Strongarm, traded with Lilijah to borrow her hunter’s cloak for the Day, and made some kind of agreement with Brar, trading away one of the axe tokens.

He was plotting something, and it was high time he told her what it was.

***

Frank felt great. Somewhat apprehensive but great. His fever had finally cleared too, so he no longer had to walk about with a heat stone in his face. And between the Brews and the priestly healing, he was ahead of schedule.

Health = 40/42

Mana = 0

Down to his last axe coin, one he’d be keeping for emergencies, but ahead of schedule. He hadn’t even taken today’s Brew yet.

“I might be able to do a little test burn today, before the big day tomorrow.”

It had taken making a lot of stones for Lilijah’s poison experiments, to get her to agree to this whole thing, but Frank considered them a worthy investment. If she could figure out how to use them offensively herself, it would let them have another party member able to punch above their Threat.

The thing about his stones were, just breaking them didn’t result in the kind of blasts he could now command. There was still some reaction, but nothing like the spellmark long tongues of magefire they could make if he detonated them. He wasn’t exactly clear on what she was trying, but as long as she didn’t burn something down, he wished her luck.

Well, something important. Some burning was inevitable.

Brar and Lilijah had joined them for their patrol into the tunnels yesterday, and apart from crushing a few Bones and working on their teamwork, it had been uneventful. Frank knew it wouldn’t stay that way. They were all still flush of their last success. Given time, issues would crop up.

That was normal for any party. “We’ll deal with them as they come.”

Now, with everything in place, it was time to enjoy the festival, before the burn.

Frank turned to Deli to tell her as much and found himself pinned by a serious look.

“Frank Ebner,” She asked, and he did not like how she said his full name. “what foolishness have you been plotting?”

Right. That was what he still had to do today. Find a way to convince Deli this was the right thing to do, or order her to just do it and create resentment over it in his sworn hand. “No pressure.”

Frank gave one last wishful look to the festival setting up for the last market day of the year, and led her away. “Come on. Let’s get home, and I’ll explain.”

***

The talk was not… going well.

“She choose it!” Deli told him fiercely. “To be born with demon blood in her veins was misfortune, but to become Demonspawn, she had to choose it!”

She’d be shouting if he hadn’t ordered her not to. Frank felt bad about it, but everything was linked with tunnels. He couldn’t have this talk spreading.

“Maybe she did. But you don’t know under what pressure she did so. We know she’s been cursed. If the Demons could take her and curse her today, who’s to say they didn’t do so previously?”

Deli scoffed. “What, a Curse that weakens Will? There’d be stories and songs of such a thing. It would live on in infamy!” Her hand swung like an axe, denying the possibility. “No! She got in over her head, or made a mistake. Then gave herself to a demon to survive, unwilling to face the consequences of her actions like a proper woman!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you!”

Neither of them was exactly calm.

“It doesn’t matter anyway!” Frank argued, filled with conviction.

“She put her life back together. Neither you nor I knew she was a Demonspawn, because she didn’t act like one! She overcame her nature, and that should be respected.”

“We didn’t know because she lied and deceived us! It’s no wonder she was comfortable taking you into her bedroll, she probably enjoyed it!”

“No she didn’t!”

“How would you know!?”

“I would have noticed!”

Ok, now he was shouting.

Frank raised a hand, stopping her. “Let’s just. Take a breath, or two.”

Deli walked over to the table, ripped the chair from it and planted it before the fire, sitting with her back to him.

Frank sighed, sitting at the table himself, watching the tense lines of her back. How was he supposed to explain addiction, and modern treatments for it, or rehab, to a girl who knew nothing of any of it? Who believed all internal failings were the fault of the person suffering them, for if not, would the Gods not intervene to right the injustice?

Frank doubted it was that simple.

“Woman. You’re slipping again, Frank. She’s a grown woman, not a girl. Just because she isn’t educated like you, doesn’t mean she’s stupid, or childish. Hell, she knows more about surviving in her own lands than you do. That’s how it works.”

…

“But she’s still wrong. How do I make her see it?”

***

Frank was being a fool. “Is this it? Was this why he came for me? Because he has a need to play the hero to every sob story?”

Deli felt her stomach clench and unclench.

“If so, we’ll spend the rest of our lives on the hook to foul men with poor tales! Digging them out of holes they’d dug for themselves, until one buries us!”

That wasn’t what being a Hero was supposed to be about. Heroes fought real threats, Monsters. They did not play the saviour to every passing troublemaker!

“Is this what I swore my life too? Is he soft… or weak hearted?”

One was a matter of character, and could be good or bad. The other was a matter of survival. Hers and his.

“How can I protect him from himself, if he will not listen?”

***

After a minute or two, to cool down, Frank tried again.

“Look.”

Deli spun to face him. “Oh. Am I allowed to speak again?” She asked, her voice sharp.

“Yes.” Frank told her, sighing. “But I’d still like to get my point out.”

“You’ve made it.”

“I don’t think I have. Not well, anyway.”

Deli squinted at him. “Speak.”

“Look, I’m burning myself anyway, right?”

“Yes.” She bit off.

“So if all that fire is going to be there, why not use it?”

“Because you’re not using it.” She told him directly.

“Yes I am.” Frank replied, because, uhh, that’s exactly what he was doing. Being efficient.

“You’re giving it away as if it was snowmelt, not blessed fire.”

Frank was taken aback.

“Wait… it’s not the act you have a problem with, nor her being Demonspawn? Or pissing off Deathless? It’s the price you object to?”

“Yes!” Deli told him, her voice a near shout. “Nothing she can offer is worth it! That Demonspawn is taking advantage of you!”

“Huh.” Frank sat back. That was not at all what he thought the argument was about. He needed a moment to consider this. “So what you’re saying is, that if she could offer a fair price for it, it wouldn’t be a problem?”

Deli scoffed. “If she could afford it, she would have gone to the Priest already. That’s the whole point. She knows she cannot pay, but is taking the charity anyway. As if she was a firekeeper. All while pretending to be an upstanding servant able to fend for herself. You cannot switch between them at a whim, Frank! You’re either a firekeeper, or you’re not. She can’t have it both ways!”

“I feel like I’m missing something here. Don’t injured warriors become servants at times, until they heal? To afford the food to recover, at least?” Frank asked. He thought that was how it worked.

“They become servants, Frank. Not firekeepers. To be one is an admission that you cannot care for yourself. That you need another to mind you, like a child. She cannot switch between them at a whim.”

“But don’t some firekeepers grow up? Train, progress into warriors? Or servants, I suppose?”

“They do.” Deli replied in a more reasonable tone. “And a warrior that has had too much, whose spirit has broken, can became a firekeeper. Though it is ill news when one does. But no one can keep switching between them as if they are carts!”

“Why not?” Frank asked. Because it was obvious to him that once sober, Katri could take care of herself, and when like this, she couldn’t. Obviously, she could keep switching.

Deli did not respond with words. Her fists clenched, she growled in angry frustration, and the chair went up.

Frank ducked, as she threw it at him.

“No, this isn’t going well at all.”

***

The rest was fists, elbows and throws. Frank considered himself a fair brawler. But an extra tier of Strength and two in Agility decided the fight before it started. Deli might have been breathing harshly by the end of it, but Frank was the one on the floor, with a bruised jaw. And bruised ribs. Forearms, feet.

He’d taken a beating, was the thing.

“Why are you smiling, you insufferable man!?” Deli asked him, voice tired.

“I’m happy you’re still willing to expressing yourself freely Deli.” He told her. It was true, but he was also needling her. The Confederation culture was one in which brawls were common.

With Health, the risks were different. They felt it best to get the fight out of the way, before it poisoned the relationship.

“Oh, you like me being honest do you?” She came over and lifted her foot to stomp on his face, but thought better of it. Instead, she dropped on his pelvis, straddling him on the floor. Hands raised to keep slapping some sense in him.

But she was calm now, and that was about as much he could put up with.

“Enough.” Frank ordered, using his Command voice.

Deli hesitated, before sullenly lowering her hands.

“I’ve heard your objection, and understand the depth of your feelings. I’d say I’ve experienced them first-hand.” Frank drawled. Deli winced, quickly getting off him. Frank got up, checking his health.

Health = 38/42

Mana = 1

Two points. Not great, but not terrible. She’d pulled back nearly every blow. That final right cross had been a little different.

Deli didn’t look away. She expected to be punished for it, but she didn’t shy away from the consequences of her actions. She faced them, him, squarely.

“From what I understand, there’s two main points of contention. One: that she pays a fair price. Two: that she is flaunting the firekeeper culture, breaking its customs and mores. Would that be an accurate summation of your objections?”

Deli considered it for a moment, slowly nodding. She was still frowning at him.

“Well then, it’s on me to make sure I extract an appropriate price. As for the second part, I’m not of the Confederation. To me, it seems that she does not fit the traditional mould. That her condition is such, that she needs help getting back up on her feet when she falls, but that Katri is fully capable of walking her own path once recovered. That problem, you’ll need to figure out in your own heart, or to take up with your own people, Deli. Not me, because while I understand, I don’t agree.”

Deli was surprised, for a moment, before she winced again. This wince was much bigger. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry. With how you dress, act, I keep forgetting you’re not one of us.”

“Yes, well, sorry doesn’t exactly help me much, does it?” Frank asked, rubbing his ribs, and starting to straighten out chairs.

“No.” She admitted, looking back up at him. She was still mad at him, but also just a bit contrite. Deli joined him in cleaning up, while they talked.

“So, I will make sure the right price is agreed upon, and you will take your other issue up with someone actually qualified to handle it? The Priest here seems mostly sensible, he might be able to help you.”

Deli looked at him sceptically. “What could she possibly offer to you, that she could not to a Priest, to pay for it?”

“That’s on me to find, not you to worry about.” Frank told her flatly.

She didn’t like that, but she slowly nodded, accepting it, however reluctantly.

Frank sighed, letting go of his Command voice.

“Now, that just leaves us with your punishment, and how you can make it up to me.” Frank said, innocently. Oh, he had just the idea for that. A delicious, horrible idea. One that would make both of them miserable, and help both progress. “Sometimes, I wish I was stupider. Then I wouldn’t think of such novel ways to torture myself.”

“At least we’ll suffer together.”

***

Deli watched over Frank, while he was lost in his own head. He was lying in his own bed, after setting himself on fire. He’d recovered enough to test his blessing, before the big day. While he tossed and turned, she worked on her punishment. Sewing and adapting one of her undershirts, and a pair of underpants.

“We’re missing the festival.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked this. When she’d suggested teasing him, she’d meant to do that in private. But she kept working on these “panties” and “bras”, as she’d been ordered. Cutting out triangles of cloth linked by strings that would leave her mostly bare, to tease and tempt him with.

“And freeze my nips off.”

***

Their evening training took place outside.

They’d attracted a small crowd. Just some bored watchmen, keeping one eye out on the town, and the other on the entertainment. And a few grabby drunk firekeepers, playing offense for Deli. None of them were above Agility two.

She was dancing around in the snow, with her axe staff and her first tie string bikini. And nothing else. No furs, no boots, not even slippers. Deli was shaking and shivering as she worked her stances and defended herself with the blunt tip and butt of the staff. Dodging, weaving, and tripping them up, all while nearly naked in the falling snow. Covered in sweat that almost froze on her, leaking mist like some ethereal ghost as she danced under the moonlight.

It was both cruel, and beautiful.

It had to be painful. She was probably losing at least some Health to it. But it was good Body training for someone with Body one. And it was high time she started it. Even after the Blessing kicked in, she’d still be only Body two. It would be much better if they could get her to three.

Thus, her part in this whole madness. Dodge, deflect, movement, fighting, and Body training, all wrapped up in one. Awareness too, as Frank was sure to throw snowballs at her, to contribute.

She wouldn’t last long, like this, but she’d didn’t have to. Frank had warm blankets, and hot water waiting for her. The point was to push her beyond her limits. It was the only way for Abilities to grow.

And it was a trial for him. Because he was trying to focus on his carving and engraving the carved Runes with motes of mana. If he lost focus for an instant while holding the flames, made a mistake, it would blow up in his face.

One already had. Frank had managed to throw it away in time, “But come on! How am I supposed to focus with a view like that?”

Deli was performing an impressive pole-dancing routine, without ever having heard of what it was. Using the staff to help her jumps, or push off her pursuers, and while alternatively hugging it to her, or twirling it around her to ward of pursuit. Part of her challenge was making sure not to strike the drunk firekeepers with the edge, or spike.

It wasn’t kind, letting them touch her as a forfeit for failure, but it lit a fire under her and motivated them. Not that they could touch her, until she made a mistake. But she would, as her Stamina dropped.

The one thing he’d accepted from the Academy, was that the push, the threat had to be real, for real progress.

Deli’s bikini was already soaked, from the sweat and the snowballs, sticking to her like it was painted on. It would leave little to the imagination, if it hadn’t turned to ice, becoming like sparkling jewels. Like she was armour of ice like a fey from the stories.

Deli herself was too busy fighting to be embarrassed. But Frank noticed.

There was a spark in his lap.

Cursing, Frank threw another failed stone away.

“Gods damn it! Maybe I should have limited this to just training. And not told her to wear nothing else around the house for a month, while we’re alone.”

This was going to be pure torture, he just knew it. He was already painfully hard, and he still had four stones to crave tonight.

“At least the Frostfire test went well.”

Even if it left him debilitated. Frank still wasn’t sure why his second use of it, in battle, hadn’t done the same. Maybe it was letting the fire burn out on his own Health that did it. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t willing to risk losing more progress in fighting his curse.

Health = 37/42

Mana = 4

He’d done it with six points of Health again, lowering the Curse to 81%. It had cost him 12 Health, six sacrificed, and another six lost to the fire.

He’d forbidden Deli from using her own life to quell it.

Frank wanted to see if there were differences in effectiveness, if it fully burned out on him in volume effective enough to affect the curse. So far, the answer was no. The Brew, after he’d recovered from the painful, frozen fire, had helped. Bringing him back up to 37, at the cost of missing more of the festival.

Deli wouldn’t go without him.

They’d missed most of it. Frank felt bad about that, but after weeks stuck without progress, he had to take the chance, when offered.

He still had another Brew left, from the ones Grut had given him in advance. Whatever happened tomorrow, he’d be able to recover from it. At least enough to keep their watch shifts and patrols up. Until the other Brews were ready, or he recovered from rest, whichever came first.

“I did not patiently wait for this moment, only to fuck up at the finish line. The whole point of waiting was to do this safely, or as safely as we can.”

Deli took a slap on her ass, drawing him out of his musings. She stumbled, losing her footing, while tiny drops of frozen water sprayed from the impact in a shower of stars lit by the moonlight. She crashed into the snow, but rolled with it, quickly getting back on her feet, and kept running. She came up with a crown of snow.

“She’s getting good at that. I wonder if acrobatics is an actual Skill around here.”

Well, one that had uses beyond performing on a stage. Frank had been trying for months to work out a more deflect, dodge and movement based style with his spear, while with the mercenary company, but he got nowhere with it. The way Deli was moving? It almost made him jealous.

As her butt and breasts swung nearly freely, Deli drawing in panting breaths as she ran inside her limited training field, slik with sweat and covered shiny bits of ice, she looked like some fey lady, mocking the mortals chasing her, dancing away, teasing with every step, under the light of the Pale Gate moon.

Frank’s dick twitched. There was a spark in his lap.

“God fucking damn it!”

He threw another stone away, to more jeers and laughter from the onlookers.

Deli was one of the people laughing at him, even breathless as she was.

Trying to focus on magic like this? Between the wind, snow, the shouts, jeers and the show?

It was torture.

“Almost feels like being back at the Academy again. All that’s missing is a grill under my ass, with a lit fire to hurry me up, and two guards standing over me with clubs to punish me for each mistake.”

Frank did not miss the experience. But at least he knew it was real training. He might hate it in the moment, but he’d think it all worth it when progress came. If it did, if he put in enough effort.

“Fuck it, I need to focus.”

He was missing his Ignore Skill. But this was supposed to be Will, not Reaction training. He had a free Skill slot there. If there was some kind of magic Focus Skill, one that would help with his Channelling in battle? Frank wanted it. Badly.

Badly enough to go through all this.

“Can’t lose a spell again, just because I got hit. We got through it that time, but what about the next? Worse, what if I lose it and hit my own party?”

He couldn’t risk that, not if there was something he could do about it.

“If you’re going to watch, you might as well help.” He called out to the watchmen. He picked up a snowball and threw it, Deli ducking under it with a glare at him. They laughed and started picking up snowballs. The first guard threw at her. Frank corrected them: “No, not her, me. I’m trying to focus on my carving, so just keep away from my hands. The rest is free.”

As snow started pelting him, Frank figured that was probably enough for it to count as training.

He picked up the next stone and went back to work.